


my little ribs around you

by lisettedelapin



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: F/F, Trust exercises, d&ms about tetanus and measles, idk they just talk about not dying a lot, not really kind of, pw a little p
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisettedelapin/pseuds/lisettedelapin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can feel Mari humming thoughtfully into her shoulder. “So you must be tougher than measles to have put up with me for this long.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	my little ribs around you

**Author's Note:**

> kind anon on tumblr wanted a marisuka fic so i tried my best to deliver (a month late but hey!)
> 
> title from [fineshrine by purity ring!](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=muL0Q6z0TWo)

Asuka hates when she’s like this.

Back pressed to the cold wall of this grimy shower stall, she lets her mind wander; bites her lip and lets her hands wander with it.

And it’s disgusting, so goddamn tame, just Mari’s mouth – when she speaks, when she eats, ghosting across the shell of her ear. That’s enough to get her going these days. The water went cold at least five minutes ago but she can’t even bring herself to care. Her thumb brushes over a nipple as her other hand skates down her stomach and then,  _yes lower._  She squeezes her eyes shut so tight she can feel the skin pinch as she grits her teeth, thinks of Mari’s ridiculous fucking canine teeth and  _oh—_

 _So tame._ Mari’s teeth on her lips, the dips of her collarbone, grazing her ankle of all places. Her breathing quickens, frigid water soothing the warmth of her sweat as her fingers work against her clit. She imagines Mari stealing her breath and tries to recall how she’d tasted the other night.

They have a rule. They only ever kiss in the dark.

How fucked up is that? Here she is, awake bright and early with the morning sunshine, and she’s getting off thinking about Mari when she won’t even touch her in the daylight. She’d spare a thought to changing that rule if she had the energy to acknowledge the fact that light on her skin, on her face, scares the shit out of her these days.

Plus her breathing is too laboured, body tensing as her fingers start curling and then her toes are curling and a gasp finds itself lodged somewhere in her throat and—

There are fists beating against the door. Asuka jumps, head knocking against the wall as her hands scramble to her sides and she squeaks in surprise. 

Mari’s voice is distorted from behind the door and the sound of running water, but it still feels too close, makes Asuka’s face burn hot and shameful. 

“Oi Princess! It’s been twenty-five minutes! I thought you’d planned on gracing me with your company today.”  
  
Asuka doesn’t respond; she’s too busy navigating the need to slow her breathing and the want to hold it altogether.

She thinks she hears Mari sigh.

“You coming?” Her voice is quieter, snark shifting to something closer to fatigue and Asuka has to swallow the slightly hysterical laugh trying to claw its way from her throat.

_Was about to, at least._

~

Trust exercises. That’s all they’re doing today. Misato keeps going on about this stuff — trust and partnership. There’s this expression she always comes back to.  _Like a well-oiled machine._

_The two of you need to work like a well-oiled machine._

Distantly, Asuka thinks of how glad she is she never had to do anything like this with Shinji and Rei. But then her chest burns, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek as she tries to will that neglected sting back into a dull fury.

The bones of her ribcage could collapse under that weight if she left it alone.

Misato grants the two a tiny smile when they finally make their way outside. Asuka wonders when the line of her mouth got so tight, as well as her eyes and her hands and the set of her shoulders. There’s a fierceness to the woman now, something that courses under her skin and makes her dangerous. But Asuka isn’t scared of Misato, if anything, she thinks there’s something comforting in the tension of her jaw.

They’ve all lost so much.

And that's a thought to shake, so instead Asuka frowns as she surveys the wasteland stretching in front of them.

There are buckets scattered all over the place, a trail weaving in between them towards a hoop sitting in the distance. Asuka raises an eyebrow, turns to Mari who is smirking, glasses glinting in the sunlight. Sighing, she looks back to Misato who is now extending a hand towards them, what looks to be a blindfold resting in her palm.

“No,” Asuka says immediately, eyeing the blindfold with obvious distaste.

Mari bumps their shoulders together. “It’s a trust exercise for a reason,” she says but her voice is careful.

“You need glasses for your own eyes to work, there is no way I’m letting you be mine.”

The corners of Mari’s lips quirk. “I need glasses, you have an eyepatch. I don’t think either of us are in a position to be bagging each other’s eyesight.”

Asuka stares at the blindfold. She doesn’t even know why she’s so against doing this.

“Don’t you trust me?” Mari finally says.

And that is something Asuka certainly doesn’t want to think about. Either answer can't exactly bode well for her.

She can feel Misato watching the two of them.

“It’s not like I have a choice,” she says.

Misato tilts her head to the side and Asuka can all but see the gears turning in her head as she sizes the two up. “You’ll both be fine,” she says, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun before explaining the rules.

It’s simple, really. One of them wears the blindfold while the other, through words alone, guides them down the trail and to the hoop.

“Don’t kick the bucket,” Mari mutters in quiet English, a wry smile pulling at her lips.

Asuka groans before flicking Mari’s shoulder. “I don’t plan on it,” she nonetheless replies.

Misato raises an eyebrow at the two. “Well yes, actually if you touch a bucket, that’s a penalty.”

Sighing, Asuka snatches the blindfold, refuses Mari’s offer to help her, and wraps it around her head twice before securing it in a tight knot.

She can’t see a thing.

“Quickly,” she says to Mari. She doesn’t mention how much she hates this, she can feel the sun on her skin but behind the blindfold all that’s there for her is pitch; it riles up her nerves, makes her muscles tense and her nose twitch, like something hunted.

“Calm down,” Mari whispers. Her fingers brush Asuka’s side, eliciting the ghost of a shiver from her.

And then there are hands on Asuka’s shoulders. Mari’s hands, she knows. She’d always know.

“I’m just turning you so that you’re facing the right direction.” Mari speaks quietly, voice hushed against Asuka’s ear in a way that makes her heart beat a little faster because  _how on earth does Mari know how nervous she is and_ god,  _her lips are close._

Asuka nods, trying to relax her shoulders. She needs to guard this version of herself, the terrified one who trembles at night and has to cocoon herself in blankets. Especially from Mari, who already kisses soft and thorough where Asuka is biting, moving in flickers so her heart won't let slip from her mouth.

She makes it to the hoop without a single penalty. When she gets there, she’s quick to tug off the blindfold, eyes stinging a little with the return of light. Misato’s smile is wider than she remembers.

But Mari, oh Mari is a completely different story.

She’s confident before she starts, as she puts the blindfold on and during the first few steps. It doesn’t last though and it’s with an unfortunate swiftness that Asuka learns she is  _terrible_ at following directions.

Soon they’re squawking at each other, Asuka growing increasingly impatient as Mari stumbles every which way she’s not supposed to.

“Go left!” she says, fighting the urge to grab Mari and steer her by hand.

“I am going left! Why do you keep saying to go left?”

Asuka groans, dragging a hand down her face. “Your  _other_ left, Genius,” she hisses.

Mari huffs, frowning in the direction that she thinks Asuka is standing before schooling her expression back into something more neutral.

But her turn is too sharp, her step too big. And Mari, god forbid she ever does anything half assed, doesn’t just kick the bucket but rather tumbles straight over it in one of the most shocking displays of bad coordination that Asuka would have never guessed to see. Mari curses, skidding across the ground as she tries to break her fall by the weight of her forearms and Asuka should be laughing, should be yelling, should be doing something that isn’t staring dumbly as her stomach turns with cold dread.

She doesn’t move until Mari grunts out a weak “Ow” from the ground and then she’s breathless, rushing to Mari so she can inspect the damage. No doubt, they’ve seen injuries much worse in the past but it doesn’t stop Asuka from panicking, hands eager when she turns Mari over.

Mari just groans and she’s still got that damn blindfold on. Asuka tugs it off, watching as Mari blinks blearily up at her before finding her sly smile, eyelids dropping a little and Asuka almost claps a hand over her mouth so she doesn’t have to hear what’s to come; she knows that expression, knows it’ll be something inappropriate.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Her voice sounds winded.

It makes it a little easier for Asuka to keep her tone clipped of worry when she asks Mari if she’s okay.

Mari sits up, shrugging Asuka’s hands off of her shoulders. “I am now.”  
  
Asuka looks at her pointedly.

“Arm hurts a bit.”  
  
“You’ll live,” Asuka mutters but her gaze still flits to Mari’s arm.

The skin there looks scraped raw, peeling and bloody. Asuka can’t help but cringe. Upon seeing her expression, Mari twists so she can survey the graze. She winces as she moves her arm and Asuka frowns when she catches the change.

“Nice,” Mari says. She pokes at the skin experimentally, inhaling sharply immediately after.

When Misato comes to them, righting the fallen bucket before taking one look at Mari’s arm, she sends them straight to the medical wing.

“Don’t think you’re done with this though!” She calls as they leave.

Mari, laying all her weight on Asuka despite the fact her arm is clearly the only thing injured, turns to grace Misato with a quick salute.

~

  
“Can you not?” Asuka says as Mari nuzzles into the skin of her neck.

“M’comfortable.”

“Mari, you are twenty-eight and your legs are completely fine. Be comfortable walking by yourself.”  
  
Mari gasps, shoving her arm in Asuka’s face. “Look how much blood! I could faint. Just this once, Princess, and then I’ll go back to being but a humble servant.”  
  
Asuka rolls her eyes. “You’re so ridiculous.”

Mari smiles. Asuka bets she’s not even hurt.

“You should’ve worn your plugsuit.”

Mari sighs happily. “Plugsuit stinks right now. Besides, we’re off duty.”

She shuffles in closer, nose pressed to the junction between Asuka’s neck and shoulder. And it's not how she tenses but rather how she relaxes that is involuntary.

“You’re really milking this, aren’t you?” she says, wishing desperately for some of her usual bite to find its way back to her voice.

Mari takes a moment. “I wring out every moment I get,” she finally says. The words fan slow and light against Asuka’s neck and when she exhales, it’s shakier than she’d like.

~

  
Suzuhara greets them as she greets everyone that finds their way to her—with a smile bright and warm enough to belie the sharpness of her eyes as she gets right down to business. Despite the sweetness of her voice and the way her hair always looks so soft, she’s efficient and so quietly clever. Asuka can respect that.

“That’s quite the scrape,” Suzuhara says with a nod to Mari’s arm. She’s already on her feet, gathering bandages and antiseptic.

“Do you think it’ll scar?” Mari asks absently.

“It certainly might. You’ve done a fair amount of damage.”  
  
Mari hums thoughtfully. “I’ve heard girls like scars.”

Yeah, she respects Suzuhara. But only begrudgingly, she thinks, gritting her teeth as she watches the girl blush when Mari winks at her.

She can’t stop watching as Suzuhara moves in to press the antiseptic to Mari’s skin. She’s gentle, but relentless, never pausing for Mari to catch her breath. Asuka watches as Mari’s brows furrow, can’t stop staring at the way the skin of her knuckles stretches tight as she clenches her fists.

There’s a part of her that wants desperately to push Suzuhara away and do it herself. But that would definitely result in more harm than good. Instead she keeps watching, pushing a slow breath out her nose.

Mari catches her eye every now and then, smiling slightly and it knots Asuka’s stomach.

After what feels like too long, Suzuhara finally pulls away from Mari, throwing the bloodied cloth into a trashcan before reaching for the bandages. And something in Asuka boils forth, crashes against her lungs and forces her to speak.

“I-I’ll do that,” she says, gesturing to the bandages.

Suzuhara turns to her, brows creasing as she frowns softly. “No, you don’t need to worry about it,” she says. There’s an understated sternness to the words that makes Asuka rise.

“You must be busy. I can do it.”  
  
Mari watches, vaguely amused as Sakura tilts her head and regards Asuka curiously. Eventually she softens, nodding before handing Asuka the bandages. “Just be careful with it,” she says before turning to Mari. “Make sure you come back later to get it redressed.”  
  
“Ah, what on Earth would we do without you, Sakura?”

Suzuhara grants Mari a sweet smile before leaving. Asuka is quick to take her spot, looking anywhere but at Mari’s face as she takes hold of her arm. Mari scoots closer, and the warmth that comes with her catches Asuka off guard. She sucks in a short breath as Mari chuckles softly.

She doesn’t tease Asuka. Not a single word about her insistence on dressing the wound. It sets Asuka further on edge, making her fingers tremble against Mari’s skin.

“Sweet kid, isn’t she?” Mari says.

Asuka accidentally presses too hard, jumping when Mari flinches. She doesn’t take hold of her arm again until Mari laughs breathlessly, laying a hand on Asuka’s knee to steady her.

“Sakura, I mean. She’s cute. I bet if that older brother of hers was still around he’d be staving people off with sticks.”  
  
And god, she’s twenty-eight; too old with far too little time or energy to be feeling the heat of envy towards a kid.  _Kid,_ that’s what Mari had said. And then she just feels guilty _. Kid._ She lets the word tide whatever is spilling in her chest back to the still ache she's grown so accustomed to. Sakura should be starting university and working a part-time job, still susceptible to pain that burns fresh; able to cry. All the things that none of them will ever understand.

“Those buckets looked pretty rusty. Would you stay with me if I got tetanus, Princess?”

Asuka jumps again. She’s taking her time, only halfway through fixing Mari up. “Tetanus?” It feels odd to say the word—out of place. “Weren’t you ever vaccinated against that?” And the thought seems so distant; jellybeans and the hard chairs of waiting rooms registering in her mind like details of an old foreign film.

Mari leans forward to press her forehead against Asuka’s shoulder. “Hm, you’re right. Forgot about that.”  
  
Asuka freezes briefly, before her features harden and her hands start working again. “Trust me four-eyes, if anything is going to kill you, it’s not going to be tetanus.”

“Oh?” Mari breathes in response, fingers starting to move in idle swirls against Asuka’s knee. “Measles, then?” she says with a snort.

Asuka wrinkles her nose. “Don’t count on it. Measles will take one look at you and run away.” Finally, she finishes bandaging. She frowns as she inspects her handiwork, dragging a gentle finger over the dressed wound.

She can feel Mari humming thoughtfully into her shoulder. “So you must be tougher than measles to have put up with me for this long.”

She doesn’t know what it is, but something bends her closer to Mari, hand moving so their pinkies are brushing. Her voice drops as she speaks. “You’d have been immunised against measles as well, you know?”

This whole conversation is ridiculous, of no clear use, and Asuka’s arms feel so awkward at her sides when she imagines wrapping them around Mari. Her heartbeat picks up when she hears the rhythm of Mari’s breathing stutter.

She isn’t surprised when Mari leans up to kiss her. Instead, she finds herself sighing softly as she raises a hand to cup the back of Mari’s head; pressing their lips tighter. It feels natural enough for Asuka to almost wish she were warier. But Mari gasps as Asuka bites her lip, and there’s something in that sound that Asuka can only regard with affection.

Mari is the one to pull away hesitantly, brushing her lips against Asuka’s before ducking to press a kiss to her jaw. “I’m glad you won’t be dying any time soon,” she whispers.

It’s far from romantic but Asuka can’t stop her lips from quirking. “Mmm, me too,” she says before swallowing and speaking again. “And you…I’m glad you’re not doing any dying in the foreseeable future either.” I’m glad you’re not going to die  _on me,_ is what she really means.

“Oh trust me, love, we’re stuck with each other.”

And that’s enough. Asuka wonders if Mari realises, just how much it makes her chest swell to hear that. She just needs a constant; someone she can wrap herself around who’ll stay firmly rooted in the ground. And so finally, she gives in, tilting Mari’s chin back up so she can kiss her again. She’s fiercer now, fingers tangling in Mari’s hair as she pulls her closer.

This time, they’re both panting when they break. “Slow down,” Mari whispers. Asuka keeps her gaze fixed on Mari’s lips; they’re swollen and red. She holds her breath when she runs the tip of her thumb over them.

“Sakura might come back.”  
  
Asuka rolls her eyes. Mari’s tone is anything but a warning with all the warmth it holds. “Creep. We are definitely not going to startle Suzuhara today.”

Mari brushes her lips across Asuka’s cheekbone. “You haven’t kissed me in ages though,” she whines. Completely shameless.

Asuka’s cheeks redden. “I didn’t say we were going to stop, did I?”

“Oh?” Mari’s smile is the slyest Asuka has ever seen.

~

  
They move through the narrow corridors of Wille headquarters quickly, Asuka surveying every corner even though really, they’re not doing anything wrong. It feels like she’s holding her breath until they get to her room and she shoves Mari inside. As soon as she’s shutting the door behind her, her back is pressed to the surface, Mari’s body warm against hers.

She leans in to plant kisses along the column of Asuka’s throat, grazing the skin with her teeth and smirking when Asuka gasps.

“What happened to ‘slow down’?”

“We can do slow if you’d prefer,” Mari murmurs, standing back so she can unzip Asuka’s jacket and push it off of her shoulders.

Asuka takes advantage of the new space, driving Mari forward until the back of her knees hit Asuka’s bed, forcing her to sit on the hard mattress. She stands between Mari’s legs, leaning down to nip at the brunette’s earlobe. “Not a chance,” she says. Mari grabs her wrist, fumbling with the cord of Asuka’s plugsuit before pulling sharply. The force pitches Asuka’s body straight into Mari’s, the weight pushing both of them to fall gracelessly back against the mattress.

Asuka manages to shrug out of her loosened plugsuit, chucking the garment to the side before reaching for Mari. They move so well together; Mari quick to raise her arms when Asuka tugs at the hem of her shirt before arching slightly when she brushes kisses over the newly bared skin of her chest. Asuka wonders how people do this, she wants so desperately to be everywhere at once—one hand pulling eagerly at the straps of Mari’s bra so her shoulders are completely exposed, while the other works at the strings of Mari’s pants. She’s restless, her lips on all the skin she can catch.

Mari’s breath hitches when Asuka sucks at the hard line of her shoulder, and then her hands are scrambling for the clasp of Asuka’s bra before she’s leaning up to undo her own. She barely manages it before Asuka’s gripping her shoulders and pushing her down again, seeking her lips and running her hands over her breasts. It’s only when Asuka slips slightly, lips pressing clumsily against the corner of Mari’s mouth that Mari manages a strained laugh.

“My glasses,” she says, breathless.

Asuka pulls them off for her, pressing a kiss to her temple and then tossing them aside. Mari winces slightly at the sound of them skittering across the floor. But it seems she forgets about them soon enough as Asuka brushes her lips over her ribs, thumb moving to circle her nipple.

It’s a little surprising but Mari’s not loud, not obnoxious like she is in probably every other situation. She’s responsive though. Asuka can trace the shifts in her breathing, figure out what’s good by how she moves—her clenched fists, the jut of her ribs when she inhales and the ease of which her back arches. She doesn’t think she’s been this hungry in her life; the heady need she feels when she’s piloting an eva feels weak, falling and fading in the face of Mari’s skin.

She curses softly when she runs her fingers over the seam of Mari’s underwear and Mari sighs, arms circling around Asuka to drag their bodies closer before she cards her fingers through Asuka’s hair.

And it’s all too soft; it frightens Asuka how much she wants Mari closer, tighter, pressing up harder against her. When she finally pushes the fabric of Mari’s underwear to the side and god, Mari is so wet, hips canting into her touch and she’s pressing frantic open-mouthed kisses to the side of Asuka’s neck, she has to bite back a whimper. She wants so desperately to be touched more than what she’s being given, but she can’t bring herself for a second to focus on anything but Mari.

As if she knows, Mari moves her hand from Asuka’s back so she can skim lightly over the skin of Asuka’s stomach, tracing her hipbone before lowering to flirt with the band of her underwear. Asuka shudders, presses down on Mari’s clit to even the score. Mari’s reaction is instant, writhing against Asuka’s hand as her mouth opens wider against Asuka's neck. Asuka does it again, this time rubbing slightly and Mari gasps.

Her hand slips just under Asuka’s underwear. “A-Asuka, God…would you let me—“

There’s something about hearing her actual name from Mari, rather than some silly term of endearment, that has her trembling and yanking Mari’s hand out of her underwear so she can pin it above Mari’s head. Mari’s eyes are dark and wide as she grins loosely at Asuka.

“Just-Just wait please, okay,” is all Asuka manages before she’s kissing Mari again. It’s messy and she feels like her lips are bruising but Mari runs her tongue over Asuka’s teeth and it makes her heart thrum faster, hand quickening against Mari.

When Mari begins to slip from Asuka’s mouth and her breaths start to break midway so that they come sharp and shallow, Asuka pulls away. Mari groans, reaching for Asuka as she moves down, hands sliding across the planes of Mari’s body. She drags Mari’s underwear over her hips and down, lifting up Mari’s feet so she can drop them to the floor.

Mari holds her breath until the first tentative touch of tongue hits her and she has to exhale in a choked gasp. Slowly, Asuka gets more confident, blinking blearily up at Mari to watch how she moves. Her hands flit about, either pulling at Asuka’s hair or tangling for purchase in the sheets and her head seems to fall deeper into the pillow as her back arches slightly and her brows crease. Eventually, Asuka draws her hand back up to work her fingers against Mari. She’s not even thinking about it as her other hand slides down her own body to touch herself.

She keeps them both running like that, Mari crying out occasionally while any noises Asuka might make end up muffled against Mari’s skin. When she curls a finger and slides her tongue across Mari’s clit, she feels Mari’s body start to quake before her hips jump away from Asuka, a low keen stuck somewhere in her throat as her spine arches straight up and all her muscles seem to stretch and tense and tremble.

Asuka watches, fingers working furiously at herself before she finally breaks as well, Mari’s name falling from the tip of her tongue into a broken whimper and then Mari is holding her, dragging her body back up so they’re pressed tight against one another as they kiss.

They’re dizzy when they break, both slumping away from each other so they can catch their breath. After a moment, Mari looks to Asuka, before rolling into her side and dragging the blanket over them. Asuka doesn’t protest, instead pressing a lazy kiss into Mari’s hair.

“You’re a mess,” she says, once she’s regained the power of speech.

Mari laughs, the sound is bright, dazed and still a little breathless. “Speak for yourself.”

When Asuka turns to face her, she’s untying her hair—pigtails falling loose into a tangled mess. “You totally pretended you didn’t know your left and right on purpose, didn’t you?”

Mari frowns. “Are you serious?”  
  
Asuka delivers a swift kick to her shin. “The bucket. Falling. You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”

Mari grins at her, raising an eyebrow. “The lengths you will go to discredit my charm,” she says, shaking her head.

“I hope you contract measles,” is Asuka’s response, along with a quick bite to Mari’s shoulder.

They’re both quiet again. Asuka feigns dozing off, to exist for a moment, as someone tender, without need for pretence, away from the sharpness at the back of her own throat. Mari writes on the skin of her arm with her fingertips. She doodles a flower and writes Asuka’s name before progressing into lazy circles.

“Your room is definitely bigger than mine.”  
  
Asuka groans. “Do you really have to be chatty right now?”

“I’m just saying. And your bed is much nicer. I’m living in ruins, did you know? Yesterday, I rolled off my bed in the middle of the night.” She flicks Asuka’s shoulder.

“I’m not kicking you out, okay. Now please Mari, would you shut up?”

Mari hums, shifts so that Asuka is tucked into her body before kissing the frown between her brows and closing her eyes.

And maybe it's only once Mari can't see her that Asuka lets herself soften, lets herself look at Mari, heart aching for her flyaway hairs, the curve of her ears. But it's something, to settle for the moment, enough into the feeling of stability to drift off, their legs tangled.

**Author's Note:**

> phew!!
> 
> i listened to [this mix](http://8tracks.com/phollie/love-is-nuclear) a lot if anyone is interested c:


End file.
